Below, at the foot of the stairs, they found themselves in a passage crowded with people--lawyers, witnesses, officials, mixed with the populace.

Again a road was opened for Aldous and his charges.
"This way, Mr.Raeburn," said a policeman, with alacrity.

"Stand back, please! Is your carriage there, sir ?" "Let Ann Mullins take her--put them into the cab--I want to speak to Mr.
Wharton," said Marcella in Aldous's ear.
"Get me a cab at once," he said to the policeman, "and tell my carriage to wait." "Miss Boyce!" Marcella turned hastily and saw Wharton beside her.

Aldous also saw him, and the two men interchanged a few words.
"There is a private room close by," said Wharton, "I am to take you there, and Mr.Raeburn will join us at once." He led her along a corridor, and opened a door to the left.

They entered a small dingy room, looking through a begrimed window on a courtyard.
The gas was lit, and the table was strewn with papers.
"Never, never more beautiful!" flashed through Wharton's mind, "with that knit, strenuous brow--that tragic scorn for a base world--that royal gait--" Aloud he said: "I have done my best privately among the people I can get at, and I thought, before I go up to town to-night--you know Parliament meets on Monday ?--I would show you what I had been able to do, and ask you to take charge of a copy of the petition." He pointed to a long envelope lying on the table.